The images that I've chosen for this year's Holy Week series are, you could say, unconventional depictions of Jesus. I opted for these after reading Chauncey DeVega's AlterNet article "Dear White Christian America: Jesus Was Not a White Surfer Dude." DeVega's piece is a critique of the depiction of Jesus in the "(white) American popular imagination." The most recent example of this depiction can be seen in the History Channel's series The Bible.

Writes DeVega:

The historical figure known as Jesus of Nazareth was not "white." He was not European. Based on the scholarly consensus, the historical Jesus would be a Middle Eastern Jew of medium, if not dark, complexion. . . . This Jesus would be hounded and harassed by the TSA, looked at as a de facto "suspicious" person in post-9/11 America, and be racially profiled by the national security state. The historical Jesus would likely be subject to stop-and-frisk policies by the New York police and others. If it were too late at night, and the historical Jesus was trying to get a cab – especially if he were not attired "professionally" – he would be left standing curbside because brown folks in their 20s and 30s who look like him are presumed to be criminals. Despite the "common sense" depiction of Jesus in the (white) American popular imagination, the historical Jesus Christ is not a white surfer dude with blue eyes, long flowing hair, and tanned and toned skin.

One way to move beyond the narrow depictions of Jesus produced by the "(white) American popular imagination" is by viewing the array of alternative depictions that are out there. It is these types of alternative images that I'll be sharing throughout this series of posts. Of course, most of these depictions are just as historically inaccurate as those that depict a white Jesus. For me, however, it's not so much about historical accuracy as it is about not being limited in imagining and visualizing Jesus.

Seeing a non-European looking Jesus has the potential to turn upside-down our thinking and perception of Jesus and, by extension, those around us whom we might consider as 'other.' But then, as the following excerpt from Albert Nolan's Jesus Today confirms, this is exactly what Jesus' life was all about.

It was with extreme reluctance that Jesus allowed himself to be spoken of as the Messiah. He discouraged his disciples from saying this to people because he was not a Messiah in the sense in which most of them understood that word (Mt 16:20). He had no intention of being served by the people, nor did he want his disciples to be like rulers who are served by others. He wanted to be the servant (Mk 10:42-45). It is hard to imagine how strange this reversal of the relationship between master and servant must have sounded to the ears of his contemporaries. John the evangelist captures it powerfully with his story of Jesus washing his disciples' feet (Jn 13:4-16).

Jesus did not try to avoid the crucially important role that he had been called to play. He would preach, teach, and introduce the kingdom or family of God, but he would have to do so by suffering and dying for it. His image of the true Messiah would be that of the suffering servant as depicted in the Book of Isaiah (Is 52:13-53:12).

This would be the most radical reversal of all. Jesus was not going to be the triumphant conquering Messiah who would crush and kill Israel's oppressors, humiliating them and making them into victims in order to liberate his people. He would triumph by being conquered, by being arrested, beaten, humiliated, and nailed to a cross like a rebellious slave or a common criminal – the most disgraceful and shameful death imaginable in those days.

He was the victor; he was the victim. And, paradoxically, this would turn out to be his greatest achievement. Truth and justice were on the side of the victim. In fact, that is where God is to be found – on the side of the world's victims. This is what Jesus had been saying all along.

René Girand sees the reversal of victim and victor as the final answer to the problem of violence. Instead of sacrificing someone or other as a scapegoat to save the people, Jesus takes upon himself the role of scapegoat or sacrificial lamb.

From the point of view of the world around him, Jesus was a failure. They arrested him, charged him, and executed him for treason. Nothing turned the world of his time upside down more radically than treating this kind of failure as a success. It was his willingness to fail that revolutionized the spirituality of the time. His death was his triumph.

Jesus' willingness to die for others meant that he was alive and his executioners were dead. This excruciating paradox was a very important part of his spirituality. He expressed it as a riddle or paradox about life and death that appears in a variety of forms in all the gospels. It can be summed up as: Anyone who saves his/her life will lose it. Anyone who loses his/her life will save it.

Nothing contradicts the conventional attitude with regard to ego more thoroughly than this. When we are unwilling to give up our lives for others, we are already dead. When we are willing to die for others, we are truly alive. Or, when we are unwilling to let go of our egos, we are dead. When we are willing to let go, we begin to live with an abundance of life. That is why, shortly after his crucifixion, Mary Magdalene and then the other disciples experienced Jesus as very much alive – as risen from the dead.

I established The Wild Reed in 2006 as a sign of solidarity with all who are dedicated to living lives of integrity – though, in particular, with gay people seeking to be true to both the gift of their sexuality and their Catholic faith. The Wild Reed simply invites people to observe and reflect upon one man’s progressive, gay, Catholic perspective on faith, sexuality, politics, and culture.

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On September 24, 2012,Michael BaylyofCatholics for Marriage Equality MNwas interviewed by Suzanne Linton of Our World Today about same-sex relationships and why Catholics can vote 'no' on the proposed Minnesota anti-marriage equality amendment.

Even though reeds can symbolize frailty, they may also represent the strength found in flexibility. Popular wisdom says that the green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm. Tall green reeds
are associated with water, fertility, abundance, wealth, and rebirth. The sound of a reed pipe
is often considered the voice of a soul
pining for God or a lost love.

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